


Book XIV: Temperance

by DarkeShayde



Series: The Arcana: A Retelling [14]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Acrobatics, Chance Meetings, Circus, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Costumes, Dancing, Discovery, F/M, Falling In Love, Ghosts, Haunting, Kissing, Magic, Memory Loss, Murder Mystery, Music, Mystery, Other, Plague, Recovered Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 12:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeShayde/pseuds/DarkeShayde
Summary: After a stressful couple of days, Shayde and Julian try to relax a little and enjoy the Masquerade. But Asra warns them that Lucio’s ghost is wandering around in the shape of a mangy, white goat with glowing red eyes. Now the merrymaking has turned into ghost-hunting.





	Book XIV: Temperance

Julian and I exchange a wry look. Just when we were getting ready to search for Asra, he’s found us first. I can hear the sound of music and laughter, but it’s distant, muffled. Nobody is nearby. It seems we’re in a wing that’s been closed off from the Masquerade.

“Wait, why were you looking for me?” Asra asks.

“I have some questions for you.” I answer. “I … just found out that I died of the plague, three years ago.” Asra’s eyes widen in horror, before he averts his gaze, his mouth twisting in … guilt? Regret? “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I … yes, I did.” Asra admits quietly, before giving me a concerned look. “Are you alright? You’re not … it’s not hurting you? I tried to tell you the truth before, but it never worked. Your headaches …” I feel a faint throbbing ache in my temples, but it’s far from the debilitating agony I used to feel. Was every time I’ve had a headache in the last three years because of this?

“It doesn’t hurt. I just want to know … how did I come back? Do you know?” I ask.

“Yes.” Comes his surprisingly straightforward answer. “Well. Sort of. I … know I performed some kind of ritual, during the last Masquerade. But I don’t remember exactly what happened. I wish I could tell you.”

“Asra … thank you.” I say. Whatever he did to bring me back, it couldn’t have been easy. Magic like that is very hard to full off successfully and the cost is _always_ high. I wonder what price he paid …

“It was worth it to give you a second chance.” He replies with a soft smile.

“Well, you know what they say! You only live twice, right?” Julian quips. He nudges me, smiling hopefully. I can feel the somber mood lighten. Asra blinks, then looks at Julian as if he’s just noticed that we aren’t alone in the hallway. I sense a snarky reply coming.

“Oh? Do my ears deceive me, or do I hear the voice of a dead man?” Asra asks sarcastically, his eyes gleamingly with mischief.

“I’m not dead, thank you very much!” Julian retorts.

“Not for lack of trying.” Is Asra’s wry response, echoing my own thoughts on the matter.

“Er, well, let’s just … leave that in the past, where it belongs. Ahem.” Julian stutters.

“I take it the plan worked?” Asra asks, actually doing as Julian had asked and changing the subject. And more importantly, getting to more pressing matters.

“Oh yes. I chatted with the Hanged Man and lived to tell the tale. Hold your applause.” Julian says. “Lucio’s existence is directly related to the plague. Kill him for good, and the plague goes away for good. And since the plague is coming back …”

“Lucio’s coming back too.” Asra concludes. He doesn’t sound surprised at all.

“Asra? Is this related to that problem you mentioned?” I ask.

“Yes. I encountered Lucio’s ghost in the forest. But something was wrong. He didn’t look human. He looked like a white goat standing upright.” Asra says.

“What, like that painting in the dining room?” Julian asks. That goat with ruby red eyes … I feel a prickle of discomfort just remembering it. Come to think of it, I believe that was what, or rather who, I saw that first night in the Palace when the hounds led me up to Lucio’s wing. Looking back, I’m sure of it. Has he been here the whole time?

“Like that, but with more mange.” Asra replies. “I followed him here, to the Palace, before I lost the trail. I wanted to ask you to keep an eye out for him during the Masquerade.”

“You think he’ll make trouble?” I ask.

“Maybe. Then again, maybe he’ll be too vain to show himself in such a state.” Asra answers in a mocking tone. Well, apparently he has been sulking around the Palace for a while.

“Ghost-hunting, eh? This sounds like a job for the two of us, Shayde.” Julian says.

“Before you join the party, you’ll need masks.” Asra observes. “Unless you want comments about that eye of yours. It’s not contagious, is it?”

“The only think contagious about me is my sense of humor.” Julian snarks back. I roll my eyes at the two of them.

“I don’t know which one’s scarier.” Asra laughs. “Here. A mask for you, and a mask for Shayde.” Asra produces a pair of masks from his bag, and hands them over to us. I turn my mask over in my hands, admiring Asra’s work. It’s intricately carved and delicately painted. Dark purple with black swirls decorating the edges. Julian’s mask is beaked, like the other masks I’ve seen him wear, but Asra’s work is much finer. Plus, I don’t think Julian’s ever had a plume like that on a mask before. It looks good.

“You’ll need costumes, too. Why don’t you go to the stalls out front?” Asra suggests. “I’ll find Nadia and let her know what’s going on.”

“You should tell Pasha, errrr, Portia, what to look for. She’ll be able to help.” Julian offers.

“Will do. You two be careful, okay? And don’t forget to enjoy the party!” Asra disappears down another hallway. As his footsteps fade in the distance, Julian clears his throat. I turn towards him and see him holding out a hand to me, as if to take the mask I’m holding.

“Ah, allow me.” He lifts the mask from my hands, and deftly fastens it for me. Long fingers resting against my jaw, he turns my head this way and that. Seeing the fit and color choice against my pale complexion.

“Elegant, mysterious, lovely … and the mask isn’t half bad either.” Julian says. He winks rakishly at me, taking full advantage of having both eyes visible.

“Then let me return the favor.” I reply. Chuckling, he ducks his head so I can slip his mask over his face. I tweak the mask’s beak, adjusting its position until the red sclera of his right eye is hidden. If I didn’t know what I was looking for, I wouldn’t see anything amiss. It really suits him. Asra did a wonderful job.

“That’s just perfect. Thank you, my dear.” Julian says. “Now, let’s take a look at those costume stalls, eh?” I nod in agreement and we begin to make our way through the Palace halls to the gates. The path to the Palace is lined with stalls, attentive vendors, and discerning partygoers. It’s so crowded that, for a moment, I falter. Will anyone recognize Julian? It seems strange to think that now I’m hiding him because I don’t want people knowing that he is still alive. However, within moments, we’re surrounded, and Julian wraps an arm protectively around my shoulders. No one gives us more than a cursory glance. Bit by bit, I start to relax. It looks like we’re safe.

Applause from the south end of the bridge draws any attention from the costume racks. Six swans fly in glittering arcs over a small pond. Two handlers with a cart of bread are coaxing the birds through a series of synchronized tricks. It is impressive and I find myself watching intently. Suddenly, my line of sight is broken by a costume. Julian grins as he dangles it in front of me.

“What do you think? It’s my size.” He asks. It does seem to be his size, but it’s also incredibly, astonishingly, _hideously_ gaudy. Most of it is a searingly bright orange, but it also has purple panels and green trim. A half dozen clashing patterns and haphazardly placed gold chains ‘complete’ the look … I don’t even know where to focus my attention, the costume is so ridiculously busy. I find myself at a loss for words.

“Um …”

“Ha, the look on your face!” Julian laughs. “Alright, how about this one?” Selecting another costume, he holds it up to himself. Thankfully, this is a much more tasteful piece, but still not quite ‘him’, so to speak.

“… Hmm, no, too much red.” He concludes without my input. Julian hems and haws as he examines one costume after another. I glance through the racks next to him, but I’m not really focused on it. My mind is still having a difficult time calming down.

“Ah, now we’re talking!” He holds up a costume in front of himself. A jacket of dark cloth and darker feathers at the collar and coat tails, the flush of a red cravat at the throat, along with the gold trim and matching buttons. Under the jacket is a pristine white collared shirt, similar to the one he has on … It could almost have been made for him. And it matches the mask Asra gave him perfectly.

“And, wait, what’s this?” Julian asks, reaching for the costume rack again. “Do you, um. Do you think this one would fit you?” He holds out a costume for my inspection. It looks like it’ll fit, but more than that, the cut of the corset, the skirt that is high on the right and low on the left, the deep royal purple color mixed with black and grey accents, the accessories of the long, black fingerless gloves, the choker with an amethyst pendant, and the left knee-high boot paired with the right thigh-high boot suit me. He’s been paying attention to what I like to wear. The thoughtfulness of the gesture makes me smile. Behind us, an attendant clears her throat.

“Are you ready to try on costumes?” She asks. “Please, follow me.” She leads us to a row of changing tents. Most of them are small, just large enough for one person. But I can also see a tent that’s big enough for two. Before he even says anything, I know that Julian is going to want to use the larger tent.

“How about it, Shayde?” Julian asks from right behind me. Called it.

“Let’s change together.” I say. I’ll indulge him, besides I rather like the view.

“Ohhh, I was hoping you’d say that.” Julian purrs. We go into the large changing tent together, and the attendant unfastens the curtain from where it was held open.

“When you’re done, just come outside and tell me if you want to make a purchase, okay?” She says kindly before she drops the heavy fabric across the entrance, and then we’re alone. The rest of the crowd is just a piece of cloth away, but we have a semblance of privacy. Julian unfastens his mask, then starts removing his gloves and boots.

“You know, I’d forgotten how fun the Masquerade was.” He says. “And going by that crowd outside, this’ll be a party to remember! One for the history books!” I hesitate at his words, my fingers lingering at the hem of my top. A Masquerade to remember … If I ever attended one in the past, those memories are lost to me now. I’ll never get them back, as far as I know. Julian seems to pick up on my train of thought.

“I can’t wait to see what you think of it all, Shayde.” He glances at me for permission, then after I nod, slides his hands up under my top and pulls it over my head.

“Every time is different. Oh, there’s a few regular favorites, but the rest are a surprise.” He goes on as I untuck his shirt, helping him undress. He kisses my temple, but doesn’t stop talking.

“One year, there was a scale model of the Palace … made entirely from sweets. It was delicious, of course, the food always is. Turn around for a moment?” He helps me into my costume, his hands lingering on my waist while I fasten the clasps on the front of the corset. Listening to him talk, I find myself smiling. It’s difficult to linger on the past when he’s weaving visions of the future.

“And the bubble room, that’s a classic! If they ever tried to retire it, there’d be an outcry.” He turns me back around and steals a kiss, his smile warm against my lips.

“Maybe they’ll have the mirror hallway? Hmm, or maybe they’ll try the topiary zoo again.” Julian muses out loud. I run my hands over his shoulders, smoothing away a few stray wrinkles and adjusting his sleeves. He holds his hands out so I can button his shirt cuffs, the polished buttons gleaming in the candlelight. With everything in place, he ushers us out of the tent. Julian does a slow spin, showing off every angle, and bows gallantly to me.

“What do you think?” He asks, wearing that frustratingly adorable grin of his. “Am I dashing, stylish, handsome?” He looks perfect, but I’m just going to have to do something about that grin. I owe him for that joke with the costume earlier. Speaking of which …

“What about that orange one?” I manage to get the question out without laughing and actually sound sincere.

“The orange …?” Julian begins in confusion. “That monstrosity? I was only joking, you know!” The look of utter horror on his face almost makes me crack up, but I make myself hold out for just a little longer.

“Oh, were you?” I ask. “I thought it suited you so well.” I can only hold a straight face for a so long before the laughter welling in my chest breaks free. Julian laughs too, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and miming wiping away sweat.

“Shayde, don’t scare me like that!”

“You really do look amazing.” I say honestly, reaching up to make sure his mask is secured in place. Don’t want that slipping.

“As do you, my dear.” Julian waves, flagging down the attendant from earlier.

“We’ll take both of these costumes, please. They’re just perfect.” He tells her. Before either of us can reach for our coin purses, the attendant shakes her head.

“You’re Shayde, right? The Countess sent word. Your costumes are courtesy of the Palace. And your clothes will be waiting in your rooms after the party.” She gives us a curious look, clearly wondering who, exactly, we are. Julian grins mischievously at me. So much for a low profile, but I appreciate Nadia’s generosity.

“Thank you.” I tell the attendant.

“Of course. Enjoy the Masquerade!” She replies.

“We’ll have to thank the Countess later.” Julian says. “For now, shall we?” Taking my hand in his, Julian leads me back through the stalls and towards the Palace. Once inside, I hardly recognize the Palace’s halls. They’ve been transformed for the Masquerade. Everything feels different, as if I’m seeing it for the first time. Nadia’s sisters have worked wonders in such a short time. We’re surrounded by decorations, music, uniformed attendants … And what feels like every single person in Vesuvia, all of them in elaborate masks and costumes. There’s no shortage of people dressed as white goats.

“So, we have to keep an eye out for a ghost goat in all this? Easier said than done.” Julian states. “There’s too much ground for us to cover with just the two of us. Now, I _do_ have friends who might be here. Maybe one of them will know something. But until we find a lead … we should enjoy the party, too. Why don’t we start in the ballroom? It’s always spectacular. And it’s the biggest room. Everyone goes through it at some point.” That sounds like as good a plan as any to me, so I nod and gesture for Julian to lead the way. When we arrive, the ballroom is already full of guests, all dancing and chatting. Julian and I have barely taken two steps into the room when someone calls out to us.

“Ilya? Is that really you?” The voice is hushed, just barely loud enough for us to hear. It’s coming from a person in a deer mask, peering at us around a column. I think I recognize them as a wine merchant I’ve passed in the market before. Julian starts in surprise, before a broad grin spreads over his face.

“Peyton, my friend, I have no idea who this Ilya is.” Julian says.

“Oh, you rascal! You gave me and the family a real scare. I should’ve known you’d find a way out of it. Why are you here? Won’t you get in trouble?” Peyton asks.

“Not if you don’t tell anyone.” Julian replies. “Say, while you’re here, have you seen anything weird? Ive heard some rumors about a ghost.” That wasn’t quite a lie, but not exactly the truth either. The less guests know about what is going on, the better probably.

“Funny you should say that. I didn’t see anything, but I did hear something … Something unnatural.” They answer. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a white goat, disappearing up the stairs. Was it a costumed guest? Or something else? I take a step towards the stairs, intent on finding out.

“Shayde! Did you hear what Peyton just said?” Julian’s voice breaks into my thoughts. I stop, turning back to Julian and his friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.” I apologize.

“Well, I was trying to find the tiny sandwiches room, when I heard two voices.” Peyton explains. “The hallway was empty, but I could hear them talking, clear as day. Something about a deal? And a thief?” I exchange looks with Julian. _Two_ voices?

“Peyton!” A rabbit-masked reveler rushes up to us. “You’ll never believe what I just saw! There was a ghost in the circus room!” A jolt of adrenaline runs through me, and beside me, Julian leans forward eagerly. A lead already.

“A ghost, you say? Where’s this circus room?” He asks. The newcomer turns and points in the direction they came from.

“Out that door, turn right, then three doors down. You can’t miss it.” They say, before seeming to realize who they are talking to. “… Wait. What are you doing here? Aren’t you-?”

“I’ll explain later!” Julian bursts out. “It’s good to see you both again, enjoy the party!” We follow the directions given to us and arrive shortly at a set of massive double doors, draped with patterned fabric.

“Here we are! After you.” Julian bows me through the doorway. Inside, gauzy fabric is draped from the ceiling, and over the walls. Floating lanterns cast a hazy glow over the room, trailing streamers as they float about the crowd. The scent of caramelized sugar and fried treats wafts through the air. Three circular stages dominate the room. It looks every bit like the inside of a circus tent.

“I … hm. I don’t see a ghost anywhere.” Julian observes. With his height, he’ll be able to see further than I can. My magic will have to do the looking for me, since my eyes aren’t as useful in this instance.

“I don’t feel anything, either.” I agree.

“Everyone, please take your places!” An attendant calls out just then. “The show is about to begin!” Behind us, attendants swing the doors shut, and the floating lanterns dim.

“Well, why don’t we stay and watch the show?” I suggest. I do want to spend some time simply enjoying the Masquerade, and I feel like it would be rude to ask to be let out right after they closed to doors.

“Oh, good idea.” Julian says. “Which one catches your fancy?” Assistants wheel props onto each of the stages, and costumed performers take their positions. To the left, performers dressed in red and gold start setting fire to ropes and batons. In the corner, attendants wheel in a giant, elevated bird cage, with acrobats already perched inside. And to the right, a trio of magicians lift their arms, raising a sphere of water into the air. Well, fire tricks make me kinda nervous and I’m concerned about getting wet if the magicians lose control of that sphere of water, something that is very easy to do. That in mind, I go with the middle choice.

“Let’s see what that birdcage is all about.” I tell Julian.

“It’s all very elaborate, isn’t it?” He asks. “Think I could join the flock?”

“Dressed like that, you’d fit right in.” I laugh. We join the crowd around the central stage, everyone craning their necks for a good view. The acrobats’ costumes are formfitting, decorated with feathers in a rainbow of colors. A gong chimes, and all at once, the acrobats burst into motion, leaping from their bars and perches. As they do, they unfurl trapezes and lengths of shimmering silk behind them. They fly through the air on trapeze, and spiral through the silks, a riot of color and movement. With a final flourish, they land on their perches, and toss small party favors out over the cheering crowd. Julian easily snatches one of the glittering parcels out of the air, and hands it to me.

“One for you, Shayde.” He says. I gingerly unwrap it, peeling back the layers of delicate paper. At the very center is a translucent sphere with tiny flower petals suspended within.

“What is it?” I wonder.

“Hmm …” Julian hums while looking it over. “Aha! Look at it from this angle.” He plucks it from my fingers and holds it up, leaning forward over my shoulder so we can both see it. As he turns it, the delicate petals move together, into the shape of a colorful bird mid-flight. It’s a lovely keepsake. I carefully tuck it into my bag. As the the performers take their bows, the lights grow brighter, and attendants swing the doors open.

“Let’s try another room, then. Surely someone’s seen something.” Julian suggests. “Or maybe we’ll find that tiny sandwich room. Who knows?” We poke our heads into one room after another, looking for any signs of trouble. Julian lingers at one open door, peering inside with obvious interest. The room is full if low tables, with masked revelers crowded around each one. They seem to be playing some kind of card game, but no money changes hands. Instead, they’re wagering stories, secrets, and rumors. Of course Julian would like this room.

“Well, well. This looks like a good time, doesn’t it?” Julian says. “Maybe we can win some information in a game. I _do_ have an excellent poker face.”

“It’s worth a try. Maybe someone’s seen something.” I agree with a smile.

“That’s the spirit!” Julian grins. “Er, figuratively.” Nice choice of phrase. I laugh under my breath as I follow him into the room. We approach a table that has a few empty seats.

“Say, want to join me, Shayde?” Julian asks. I pause to think about it. While I have a pretty good poker face, I have almost no skill when it comes to most card games. The arcana are the only cards that I am good at dealing with and only because they are actually guided by an outside force. Really, I’m just a good listener.

“I’d rather watch.” I reply.

“Then prepare to be impressed, Shayde.” Julian says. “Dealer! Room for one more?” I stand to the side, and watch whilst he takes his seat and joins the game. Within minutes, he’s struck up an easy conversation with the other players. He plays well enough to keep up with the game, but he winks at me when they’re not watching … He’s holding back, biding his time.

“Well, this round. I’ve got a real spooky tale. A ghost sighting in the Count’s old wing.” The dealer, a pretty good card shark, says. Julian glances briefly at me, raising an eyebrow, then bets big. He wants to hear this story and frankly so do I. I want to see how it matches up with the one I have.

“Oh! Is that my win? Must be beginner’s luck.” Julian says, voice thick with faux innocence. “Now what’s this about a ghost?”

“I was walking by the staircase to the Count’s old wing earlier, when I got the strangest feeling.” They begin. “Like I was being watched. I looked up the stairs, and at the top … I saw a pair of red eyes, floating in the dark.” That sounds familiar.

“Don’t be silly, you probably saw the Count’s old sighthounds.” One of the high rollers at the table scoffed.

“Floating eight feet off the ground?!” The dealer retorts.

“Maybe. Or maybe you’d already had too much to drink.” The high roller barks back.

“Well, if you’ve got something better, then put it on the table.” Our card shark says, crossing their arms.

“Have it your way. _I’ve_ got a secret from the last Masquerade.” They say. Julian glances up at me, then back down at his cards. He looks deceptively casual, resting an elbow on the table and keeping up the conversation … But he’s playing it win. This round is much, much closer, and I find myself leaning forward, holding my breath. But, with a last second daring wager, Julian manages to win again.

“Aha! Two in a row, what’re the odds? Come on, now, what’s this secret?” Julian asks, smile flashing in the high roller’s direction.

“All right, fair’s fair.” The high roller agrees. “During the last Masquerade, there was a secret dinner in a hidden room. It was invite-only, very clandestine, just for the Count and his special guests. And I heard the guests got a once-in-a-lifetime offer.”

“Hey, don’t leave it at that! What was the offer?” That is a good question.

“I wasn’t invited, how would I know?” Was the reply. As the other players bicker, Julian clears his throat, and rises from the table.

“That was fun, but I should probably get going before my luck gives up on me, eh?” Julian says by way of an excuse. We weave between the game tables and back out into the hallway.

“Well, that went well, didn’t it? You must be good luck for me, Shayde.” He says, with a grin. That’s sweet, especially considering that since he has met me he has had to deal with a vampire eel bite, been beaten and stabbed in a shady, underground tavern, remembered the horror of the plague research he was involved in, and was hanged in front of the all of Vesuvia. Not what I call ‘good’ luck, but whatever. As we walk, he abruptly stops in front of a door painted with swirls of rainbow color.

“Wait! Hang on, I remember this room.” He says, eye wide. “Let’s go in. You won’t regret it.” Curious, I peer around him and through the door. The room’s centerpiece is a long banquet table, groaning under the weight of a feast. Smaller tables surround the larger one, with a gap on the far side of the room for a small stage and a dance floor.

“Ohh, just look at that.” Julian breathes. “It’s even more vibrant than I remember.” The banquet table is artfully piled with food sorted by color, with red at one end and purple at the other. Fruits and vegetables, baked goods, candies, roasted meat, jams and jellies … My mouth is watering just looking at it all. People sit at the smaller tables, chatting, eating, and occasionally getting up to get more food. At the far end of the table, I spot Procurator Volta’s diminutive form. She gathers an armful of tiny, orange cakes, and shovels them into her mouth, taking no notice of us. It’s a beautiful, extravagant spread of food, and I suddenly realize …

“I’m starving. Are you hungry too?” I ask, turning towards Julian, who is still standing next to me.

“Famished.” He replies.

“How long have we been here?” I ask, realizing I have no idea. I do know I wasn’t at all hungry when we started our search.

“Well, that’s the thing, you see. It’s hard to keep track of time in the Masquerade.” Julian tells me. “And it’s easy to work up an appetite. So, let’s eat something. Won’t be any good if we wear ourselves out too early.” Despite his lighthearted tone, there’s genuine concern and care in his gaze. When I look back at the banquet table, the Procurator is on green, scarfing down vegetables … I don’t particularly fancy the idea of getting between her and her food. By silent consensus, Julian and I approach the other side of the table, and pile our plates high with varying kinds of food.

“How about we sit over here?” Julian suggests once our plates are full. He pulls a chair out for me, and we sit around a table for two. It’s quite cozy and more importantly, my introverted mind is happy to have a little space from all the people.

“Here, try some lobster, its _divine_. The kitchen staff really went all out.” He says once we’ve settled and started to eat. I don’t think I’ve had a bad meal since coming to the Palace … but this might be the best one yet.

“It’s delicious. Try this dip?” I offer, moving my plate closer to him. As we finish eating, a band takes up position on the low stage, and the lights in the room dim. They start to play and the air is filled with music.

“Oh, this song! I love this song.” Julian says. Other guests begin to rise and wander onto the dance floor, by themselves, and in pairs or in groups. Julian seems to have the same idea. Pushing away his empty plate, he stands, unbuttons his coat, and offers me a hand with a slight bow and a raised eyebrow.

“May I have this dance?” He asks me. I take his hand, smiling, and we step onto the dance floor together. He guides us effortlessly between the other couples, resting a hand on the small of my back. I rest a hand on his shoulder, and the other on his hip, and he winks playfully at me. When I step forward, he steps back. When he turns, I follow. I can feel him, when and how he’s about to move. We move together as easily as breathing.

“Just like that, perfect! You’re a natural, Shayde.” Julian says, a little breathless from the dancing. “It’s moments like this when I know I made the right choice.” I don’t miss a beat in the dance, but my brow furrows slightly in confusion. The right choice …?

“Back in the Hanged Man’s realm, I mean.” He clarifies. His voice is low, for my ears only. Ah, that’s what he means. I have to agree. I’m _very_ glad he came back.

“Shayde, I … I hope you know how much you mean to me. How important you are. You and I both know that I’ve made mistakes. A _lot_ of mistakes. But even knowing what I’ve done, you still extended your hand to me. Offered me a way forward.” He leans in close, and we turn slowly together, our foreheads almost touching.

“You inspired me, Shayde. I want to do better, to _be_ better. Mark or no mark, I want to help people. To give even a fraction of the kindness you’ve shown me back into the world.” He whispers the last words almost against my lips. If I leaned just a little closer … Then, in a blink of an eye, he twists, and I spin out and away from him. At the last moment, he stretches out his arm, and catches my hand to pull me back in. As we meet, he leans back, pulling me over him so we’re touching from ankle to chest. He is teasing me. This man …

“So, well. I can’t deny that I was tempted to stay.” He says as he straightens, guiding me with him, until we’re standing again. “But in the end, I want to see tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow, and the day after that. I want to be here, with you.” Warmth floods through me, a rush of affection making me feel weightless. The song fades, and Julian bows, bringing my hand to his lips. Around us, other Masquerade guests applaud, and I can hear envious sighs and whispers from more than just the ladies nearby. Oblivious to our audience, he looks up at me, smiling. The band strikes up another song, faster and more energetic than the last.

“Ah, can you feel that rhythm?” Julian asks. “It makes me want to get onto the table and dance! How about it?” There is that damned grin again, the one that never fails to talk me into doing crazy things I would never do by myself. I know I’m doomed the second I see it. I tighten my grip on his hand, smiling back at him, and he grins even wider.

“Now we’re talking!” He says, our steps are faster, sharper. I can feel an invisible tension starting to sing between us. He guides us to the edge of the dance floor. Together, we step onto a chair. With a spin, we take another step onto the table, and our feet meet the cleared surface. Without pause and hardly a glance sway from me, Julian steps down onto another chair. This time, he braces my weight, and I’m floating, weightless, until he steps down to the ground. As we whirl between the tables and chairs, I catch glimpses of guests clapping and whistling for us.

“Ohh, now, here’s a proper stage for us, Shayde!” Laughing, Julian lifts us to onto the banquet table. I risk a glance down the length of the table, looking for safe spots to step … At this point, Procurator Volta is at the purple end of the table. She’s eaten so much that there are plenty of gaps where we can put our feet. So we step over tiered cakes and between bread baskets, without so much as wrinkling the tablecloth. He guides us down the length of the table, stepping confidently in the gaps between plates. I can feel his weight shift before each step, and I follow, flowing with his lead. At the end of the table, hooks his arm around my waist and lifts me.

“Trust me?” He whispers. I have barely a moment to nod, before he spins with me, tossing me up into the air. The lights and colors of the room whirl around me, and distantly, I hear gasps from the other guests. Then he catches me, and dips down with me. My foot is braced at the edge of the table, but I’m leaning back over empty space. Julian’s arm, wrapped around my back, is the only thing supporting me. For a wonderful, breathless moment, we’re suspended together. Then he whirls, pulling me around with him until I’m standing firmly with both feet on the table again. The doors swing open at that moment, and attendants file into the room, offering instruments to the crowd.

“Do you mind if I-?” I shake my head. Julian has to let go of me, but he leans over to snag a vielle from one of the attendants. He doesn’t even step down from the table before he starts playing, throwing his whole body into the music. With body my hands free, I take a moment to catch my breath. Then the rhythm of his playing flows through me, and I let it sweep me away. My feet move, finding the gaps between food without hesitation. It’s all worth it to see the look of unreserved joy on his face when he sees me dancing with him.

“Now it’s a real party!” He laughs. Half the guests are playing along with the band, and the other half are clapping to the beat. I can feel the energy in the air, the infectious joy of music and dance. And I can feel it the moment a sour, discordant note cuts through the song.

 _“… my party! Mine!”_  I can barely hear the voice over the music, but it stops me cold. I almost step on a platter, forgetting the dance entirely as I look back and forth for the source of it … Something is crouched at the end of the table. I can’t make out any details, but it sends a chill skittering down my spine.

 _“If I can’t have any of this … none of you can!”_  With a swipe, it hooks claws in the tablecloth, and pulls hard. Food and plates go flying. The other dancers scream and duck for cover, the festive mood shattered in an instant.

“Shayde!” I hear Julian call. The tablecloth whips out from under my feet. Julian tosses the vielle to an attendant, then grabs me. Just like he did earlier, he steps down to a chair, then the ground, supporting my weight. I never even had a chance to fall, he moved so swiftly.

“Oh! No, not the food!” Wails Volta as she dives for the feast, now scattered on the ground. Behind her, the ghostly shape drops the end of the tablecloth and claws uselessly at a ruined cake. Then, with a thin, angry wail, it flees through the door.

“Shayde! Did you see that?!” Julian asks, somewhat rhetorically. I nod.

“It went through that door!” I say.

“We can’t let it get away!” Julian buttons up his coat, and we give chase through the Palace halls. We follow it through the halls and outside. From the veranda, I can see that the hedge maze has been transformed for the Masquerade. I catch a brief flicker of white just inside the entrance of the maze.

“In there!” I say, urgently. We dive into the maze together, running headlong between hedges and ducking under decorations. I can sense the unpleasant, viscous energy, nor far ahead … But the twists and turns of the maze are in my way. I can’t catch up. The energy fades, until I lose the thread entirely. Frustration wells in my chest, and I slow to a walk.

“The trail’s gone cold.” I growl in annoyance.

“That, ah, that was him, wasn’t it? Lucio.” Julian asks, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

“I think so.” I struggle to get my own breath back.

“Hah. So he threw a tantrum, then hid to avoid the fallout. Why am I not surprised?” Julian laughs. “Don’t worry, Shayde. The night’s young. We’ll have plenty of chances to catch him. Let’s find a way out.” Easier said than done. I wasn’t paying attention to our path, and judging by the look on Julian’s face, neither was he. We wander through the maze. I can’t even tell whether we’re any closer to the exit or not. Then we emerge into a clearing. I recognize the fountain, but not the massive tree. And it’s not just any tree.

“Oh, wow. That’s just incredible, isn’t it?” Julian says. Its branches bear dozens of flowers and fruits, an overwhelming riot of color and texture. It is quite a sight to behold. As everything at the Masquerade seems to be. Near the tree’s trunk, I spot another Masquerade guest, looking up at the heavily-laden branches. Julian stops dead in his tracks, jaw dropping in surprise.

“Is that …? D … Doctor Satrinava?” He stutters out the question. Oh? I stop walking, looking curiously between them. Satrinava … could this be one of Nadia’s family?

“Who-?” They turn around, peering closely at us. “Could it be …? Ilya, is that you?”

“None other!” He declares. Julian sweeps them up in a hug, but their masks clack awkwardly.

“Ha! I can’t believe you recognized me with this thing on.” They step back enough to pull off their elephant-like mask, and adjust their scarf. “That’s better. I have to say, you’re very healthy for a dead man, aren’t you?”

“You, uh, you don’t sound surprised.” Julian observes, suddenly awkward.

“Did filled me in.” They say. “I hope you’ve met your risk-taking quota for the year?” That makes two of us.

“I have, promise.” Julian answers. I have my doubts, but I hold my peace. “Oh, but where are my manners? Let me introduce you. Ahem, Doctor Satrinava, this is Shayde, my, er, my …” He trails off as if uncertain how to describe me. But I can’t deny that like I like that he is willing to claim me as ‘his’.

“Yours, yes, I understand. It’s nice to meet you.” They say.

“And, Shayde, this is Doctor Satrinava.” Julian says after he regains his composure.

“You _can_ just call me Nazali, you know.” They say. Ah, this is definitely one of Nadia’s siblings. They all have similar names.

“I could never! You taught me everything I know about treating the plague.” Julian says firmly.

“I don’t recall teaching you the art of resurrection.” Comes the sarcastic reply.

“Well, it _has_ been a few years. I’ve picked up some new tricks.” He says. By the stars, I hope to never see that particular ‘trick’ ever again.

“Yes, you’ve grown since then, haven’t you? You aren’t half as gangly as you used to be. The stories I could tell you, Shayde. The plague might be over, but Ilya’s antics are eternal.” Nazali laughs. I’m always eager to hear stories, but I don’t get a chance to voice this.

“The plague? Over? I wouldn’t count on that.” A disturbingly familiar voice says from out of nowhere. Julian goes tense, and he immediately tries to shuffle me behind him. I know that voice. Quaestor Valdemar enters the clearing, their macabre, skeletal mask pale in the gloom.

“What a shame. Had I found you anywhere else, in any other company …” They lament with a dramatic sigh. “But there’s time for that yet. I can be patient. I don’t have to wait much longer, after all.” I’m beyond disgusted, and honestly angry, over this _thing’s_ obsession with the plague and also with dissecting Julian.

“What are you talking about?” Julian snarls.

“I’m merely looking forward to the return. It won’t be long now.” Valdemar says vaguely. “Perhaps the next plague will set a new mortality record. I certainly hope it does. I wonder how long you’ll survive this time?” Is that a threat?

“I think that’s quite enough.” Declares Nazali. “Take your ill omens elsewhere.”

“Doctor Satrinava, don’t-” Julian begins in warning.

“… Doctor Satrinava?” Valdemar questions. “How fortuitous. Perhaps … yes, perhaps we can come to an agreement. Doctor Satrinava. I am Quaestor Valdemar. I led research during the Red Plague. I have many questions about your initial discovery of the plague. The symptoms, the treatments … Perhaps we might converse elsewhere?” Julian bristles, but before he can say anything, Nazali steps forward.

“Quaestor Valdemar, is it? Very well. I’ll meet you on the veranda for this discussion.” They say, sounding very similar to Nadia with that commanding tone.

“I look forward to it.” Valdemar says. Without breaking eye contact, Valdemar walks backwards, back into the hedge maze.

“Doctor Satrinava, is that really all right? Valdemar is … they’re …” Julian tries again, but Nazali waves him off.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you two.” Nazali says, giving Julian a look.

“Us? Don’t worry about us.” Julian says.

“Then I’ll try not to. Take care, Ilya.” Nazali ducks their head to put their mask back on, then follows Valdemar into the maze.

“Well, then. We should probably follow them, shouldn’t we?” Julian asks. I open my mouth to answer, when a crash from further within the maze makes us both jump. In the same instant, I feel a sudden tug, like a hook is lodged behind my sternum. I can feel it again. The sour, unpleasant energy from the rainbow room … And, beyond it, an ominous, inky darkness.

“Shayde, what’s wrong?” Julian asks.

“I think I just picked up the trail. Come on!” I say.

“Right behind you!” I follow the tug. Every step I take, the pull gets stronger and stronger … It’s taking us to the center of the maze. Before I know it, I’m running, branches whipping past me. Right behind me, Julian easily keeps pace with my shorter stride, following me through every dizzying twist and turn. I whip around the last corner, and skid to a sudden halt. Julian nearly careens into me, but he catches himself with a hand on my shoulder. I barely notice. Because there, in the center of the clearing … is the ghost we’ve been hunting.


End file.
